


Sleeping In The Boneyard

by altered_eagle



Series: City Goblins [14]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batjokes, Doggy Style, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, The Joker has a heart, The Narrows, fuckin A, it's in there somewhere, mild breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 10:42:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12529500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altered_eagle/pseuds/altered_eagle
Summary: The mattress is sunken.The sheets are grey. They send out a cloud of dust when the Joker sprawls across them, off tugging his filthy shoesSomeone should fire the cleaning lady,Wayne remarks and the Joker barks out a laugh.You’re filthy too Bats. Just not in the same ways. Now take off that mask.





	Sleeping In The Boneyard

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompted: a fic where joker shows broose around a part of Gotham Mr. Rich Boi hadn't gotten to see before
> 
> Sorry this ended up being mostly porn anon but what can ya do

[Boneyard Blues: Andi Almqvist & The Employees](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=giCRxFEBPV4)

 

_Come with me, the Joker breathes into Batman’s ear. Come with me this time._

_i’m not—ah—_ Batman’s breath catches in his throat as the Joker pushes him up against the alley wall.

 _Not what?_ The Joker purrs, nosing his way into the crook of Batman’s neck. He’s kissing the kevlar and Batman can’t feel it but god he wants to _Come with me_ , the Joker repeats and Wayne can feel his resolve dissolving can feel his will cracking into pieces then

 

in a whirlwind Wayne finds himself in the Joker’s van parking in the basement of a crumbling motel deep in the Narrows the Joker’s pulling him into the elevator, kissing him all the way up to the top floor until they fall into a room and now the Joker is locking the door looking at Wayne and Wayne stares back, meserised by

something present in the Joker’s being that he never sees except for in these rare little splinters. It makes him feel warm even as it spreads goosebumps all over his limbs. The Joker pulls away for a moment so that Wayne can breathe, and he finally slows,

scans the room.

There's nothing save for a couple of broken chairs, a television with a shattered screen, a bedside table, and a bed that has probably seen better days.

The mattress is sunken.

The sheets are grey. They send out a cloud of dust when the Joker sprawls across them, off tugging his filthy shoes

 _Someone should fire the cleaning lady_ , Wayne remarks and the Joker barks out a laugh.

_You’re filthy too Bats. Just not in the same ways. Now take off that mask._

Wayne does, and with a tiny click he’s released from the cowl he can practically feel the air hitting his skull, rushing up against his sweaty skin and now the Joker’s dragging him forwards, tugging at his armor

 _Eager tonight are we?_ Wayne chuckles as the Joker rummages in the bedside table drawer, producing a bottle of lubricant.

 _You have—_ the Joker lunges at him, kisses his stomach— _no idea. The way you fought earlier was fucking. Breathtaking and just thinking about it is fucking getting me so hard, i need you Bruce._ He turns, facing away from Wayne as he kneels on the bed, stripping his shirt in one fluid motion and his posture gives Wayne an idea.

 _Stay there_ , he orders and the Joker freezes. Wayne goes to him and unbuckles his belt, pulls down his pants. They’re both covered in sweat and grime but the Joker is absolutely layered in it, to the point that Wayne would usually ask him to shower but he doubts the shower even works and he’s just too damned aroused to stop now. Wayne bends the Joker over so that he’s on all fours, still facing away.

 _Is this alright?_ He asks and the Joker laughs, grins at him. Wayne kisses the Joker’s muscular shoulders, then his spine, then his ribs on both sides, moving lower until he reaches the Joker’s hips. Wayne kisses a scar on the Joker’s lower back before tracing his tongue across the Joker’s ass, then over the dark skin around his hole.

The Joker hisses.

Wayne pulls back, lubes up a finger and slicks it over the Joker’s hole, feeling him shiver. Circles around for a minute before pushing in, using his other hand to reach down to touch the Joker’s cock at the same time.

 _God,_ the Joker gasps.

 _Two?_ Wayne asks and the Joker nods frantically, so Wayne adds a little more lube to his middle finger and slides it in to join the first. The Joker makes a high pitched noise like a dog whining and Wayne just has to lower his hand

to stroke at his own cock for a moment while the Joker grinds against his fingers. Wayne concentrates on this for a few minutes, just focusing on the feeling of the tight wet heat of the Joker’s body coiled around him

 _i don’t need three_ , the Joker moans. _i need you_. Wayne wants to tease for longer but decides to oblige, and slicks up his cock before slowly pressing in and up. _Make me hurt,_ the Joker breathes so Wayne twists his fingers in the Joker’s hair just enough to tip his head back slightly at first, then a little harder when the Joker’s hands fist the sheets. Wayne thrusts deeper and

gently holds the Joker’s throat as well, squeezing occasionally, feeling the Joker’s pulse flutter beneath his fingertips. The Joker’s asked him to squeeze harder before but Wayne still has trouble with it. Now

the Joker’s turning his head to the side straining to make eye contact and he’s smiling, silently begging for more,

so Wayne both pushes down and inward a fraction of an inch and the Joker gasps not from pain but from sheer arousal and now the adrenaline’s snap snapping up through Wayne’s limbs up through his spine and there it is (oh. God there it is) the moment when Wayne’s heat fuses completely with the Joker’s,

 

the Moment

 

when it’s impossible to tell where his body’s network ends and where the Joker’s begins when Wayne feels both pulses thrumming through him as he presses his hips flush against the man beneath him, closer and closer and closer until the Joker twists his fists in the sheets and moans. His taut muscles gleam in the patches of sun and Wayne’s certain he’s never seen something so beautiful.

 _There_ , the Joker gasps so Wayne begins to move faster,

and time warps, expands to the point where Wayne loses all sense of it (for once) and there is no past, no future, only this ( **this** ) and the smell of blood and sweat and gunpowder all around them and just like that Wayne’s close to finishing, he’s just waiting for the Joker’s signal. Suddenly the Joker whispers _i’m ready_ , so Wayne spits into his hand and reaches down to finish the Joker off as he comes and he’s seeing heaven as he rides the waves of his own orgasm, timing the motions of his hand just right

so that the Joker’s growling and panting right as Wayne hits him the deepest. Then Wayne uses his other hand to pinch the Joker’s nipple hard and his face hits the mattress, his eyes roll back in his head.

They close.

Wayne keeps moving, slower now,

in increments, while the Joker shudders in equal increments as he comes over Wayne’s hand. When his eyes flutter open Wayne stops and pulls out; he’s learned exactly how long he can go afterwards before the Joker’s nerves become oversensitive, and any further stimulation hurts him.

The Joker stays there splayed on his knees, panting,

until Wayne gently helps him turn onto his side and covers him with the filthy sheet.

 _How are your knees?_ he asks as he slowly stretches the Joker’s legs out.

 _Fine_ , the Joker breathes but Wayne’s not convinced. He cleans them both off with a towel lies down and guides the Joker’s trembling hand to a bottle of water before stretching out behind his enemy fully, and wrapping an arm around his waist.

 

The Joker sleeps.

 

For once, Wayne doesn’t.

 

He slides out of bed and goes to stand at the window, staring out over the slums below. Red and blue lights rattle constant and heavy up and down the narrow streets. From where he stands at Wayne counts three drug mob meetings five drug deals and seven instances of prostitution, but nothing serious enough to warrant The Batman’s interference.

It’s as if The Narrows has put its deadly crimes on hold, just for them.

 

Half an hour or so passes before the Joker gets out of bed and comes to stand beside him.

 _Do you ever see Batman bringing peace and order to this part of Gotham?_ The Joker asks. Wayne shrugs.

_It’s hard to think about the future at all. I don’t live there._

_No_ , the Joker agrees. _No, no...you’re stuck in the past, and you live in the present._

Wayne doesn’t know what to say to that.

_Where do you see yourself then? In any kind of future._

Wayne smiles sadly. _i never thought i’d hear you ask that, of all people._

_You didn’t answer my question Bruce._

_You hardly ever answer mine_. The Joker doesn’t reply but he keeps glancing at Wayne expectantly. _i’m not sure_ , Wayne says after a minute. _It’s strange to think about…not having you around._ The Joker’s arms come around him from behind.

 _i’m here now_ , he says, and Wayne's heart swells.

They stay there for a while, looking out the window, until the Joker pulls away. Wayne watches the him turn back towards the glass and tip his chin back so that the sunlight falls over his face.

It shines through the dark blonde in his hair through the bleach and the green down to the cores of each strand as the Joker pulls his hair back into a ponytail, the one that Wayne likes to tug on

when the Joker’s being a pain.

The sun throws shadows over the Joker’s scars too, and something about the way they look just now has Wayne putting his hand out,

skimming his fingers along the little dents and wrinkles. _i’m sorry for whatever happened to you_ , he says. The Joker snorts dismissively.

 _It was a long time ago_.

 _But it still affects you_ , Wayne says quietly. The Joker shrugs, and looks away, but he doesn’t deny it. _i understand what that’s like,_ Wayne continues. _Some things just don’t fucking stay buried no matter how much time passes. Some things don’t stay buried no matter what you do_.

 _The past is the past_ , the Joker says but even he doesn’t sound convinced. Wayne goes back to looking out over the city, watches a policeman throw someone up against a wall. _So do you get off on slumming or what_ , the Joker asks as the studies his reflection.

_Not really. It’s just that i don’t ever get to see what this part of Gotham looks like in the daytime._

_Yeah this isn’t exactly the sort of place that Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne would hang out._ The Joker leans his head against the glass, and something stirs in Wayne that he hasn’t felt

 

in an age.

 

 _Do you want to visit one of those places?_ he asks.

_What do you mean._

_A place where Billionaire Playboy Bruce Wayne hangs out_ , Wayne explains. _Let’s go somewhere._

 _What?_ The Joker tilts his head to one side.

 _In the morning_. Wayne reaches out to thread his fingers through the curls that have come loose from the Joker’s ponytail. _i want to take you somewhere. You can choose._ The Joker nuzzles Wayne’s hand.

 _Miami,_ he says after a moment _._ Wayne pulls his hand away.

_i am not going to fucking Miami_

_You said i was allowed to pick,_ the Joker retorts. _i want to go to Miami. Your house there is stupidly nice._

_Not even the paparazzi know about that place._

_Well i make it my business to know these things_. Then the Joker rolls his eyes over to Wayne, and in them there’s That Look that pins Wayne down, that he can’t refuse.

 _Okay okay,_ he sighs _. Miami it is. Pack your bags, i guess…on second thought never mind, i’ll just buy you things._

 _i have money Bruce, jesus_. The Joker makes a face. _i have a lot of money._

_i know, but it’s stolen. Come on, we’ll take my jet._

 

   


End file.
